


matchy-matchy

by fishysama



Category: Junjou Romantica
Genre: Crossover, Flirting, Implied Relationships, M/M, au where misaki doesn't exist, au where nowaki doesn't exist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 00:09:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15448938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishysama/pseuds/fishysama
Summary: implied minimum for the matching prompt (which it barely follows).part two of something that will probably never get a part one (but might eventually). the details aren't set yet, but let's call it a drunken one night stand.





	matchy-matchy

Hiroki plops himself down in his chair, beginning to organize his papers for the following class. For whatever reason, Miyagi had just stormed off the minute before his Intro to Literature class, so the exhausted underling had to cover for him. Hiroki was planning on grading papers during his lecture— his elder always puts his input towards Hiroki’s harsh grading, so he avoids the peanut gallery as often as possible— but it didn’t seem like that was going to work out.

 

After packing his materials into his briefcase, the door swings open. The knot in Hiroki’s eyebrows returns as he barks, “Miyagi-kyoju, what _the hell_ do you think you’re-!?”

In the doorway stands Usami Akihiko, holding a copy of _In Search of Mother, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, Journey to Outer Space._ His kind lavender eyes go wide as he responds, “What are you yelling about, Hiroki?”

At the sight of his friend— well, not just _friend_ — Hiroki clams up. He stammers, “O-Oh… I thought you were my boss. Sorry.”

Akihiko chuckles as he invites himself into the office. “You talk like that way to your boss?”

His previous anger returns to his voice, “Well, he just ditched his largest class so _I_ had to teach it, and I don’t even care for Matsuo Basho-!” he stops himself as the other comes closer, “S-Sorry. You probably don’t really care.”

“It’s no problem,” he threads his fingers through Hiroki’s hair, “It’s funny to see my Hiroki get his knickers in a twist.”

His face goes hot. ‘... _My_ Hiroki?’ He tries to shake it off, it was probably a slip of the tongue. But what if… “Sh-Shut up.”

 

“Oh, and,” he hands the cornflower book to the other, “Thanks for letting me borrow this. It was a decent read.”

 _“D-Decent?!??!_ This!” he points at the novel, “This is a _classic!!_ I can’t be _lieve_ you!”

“I was joking,” he juts the book forwards, teasing, “It was _pretty good.”_

“You…” He stops his tirade as his eyes find his poorly bandaged finger. With concern, he asks softly, “What did you do to yourself?”

“Oh, right. I was pouring coffee and the glass shattered. I don’t know what I did wrong…” Handing off the novel, he holds out his injured digit, a little trickle of blood painting his pale knuckles.

“What?!?” He groans, “You imbecile! How many times do I have to tell you, the heat-resistant glasses are for hot things, and the normal glasses are for cold things!! What, do I have to label them for you!?!?” He gasps in horror at the leaking blood, “Don’t tell me you _bled_ on _my_ first edition!!! I’ll kill you!!!!”

“Now, now, calm down.”

“I’m not calming down, idiot! You bandaged it all wrong, sit down already!!” Hiroki growls, furiously rummaging through his drawers.

Akihiko nonchalantly sits in the office chair and spins himself around, “Don’t get so worried, it’s just a little cut.”

Hiroki stops himself for a moment, pulling out a roll of bandages. “I’m… not worried.”

“Sure.”

Pink in the cheeks, Hiroki takes a bottle of antiseptic and sprays it expertly at his wound. “Shut the hell up.”

Akihiko flinches back, muttering, “So cruel…”

Hiroki grimaces at that remark. He wasn’t being cruel, not through his eyes. He kneels in front of him, beginning to wrap the finger. Sure, Miyagi’s chair was just a meter away, unoccupied and twice as comfortable. Yet, Hiroki enjoyed being below him like this, practically between his beloved’s legs. Not that he would admit that.

 

“How boring. You know, I heard there was a rule saying that when your finger’s bleeding, the other person has to suck on it to stop the blood. I saw it on TV.”

For a moment, Hiroki considers taking up his offer. For a moment, no longer. “What sort of television are you watching..? Don’t be gross.” Is that what it was called, ‘being gross?’ Because, right then, it didn’t feel gross at all. It felt like Akihiko wanted him. That, of course, was all in Hiroki’s head. Of course.

 

Akihiko stifles laughter, interrupting Hiroki’s industrious wrapping. He furrows his brows, “What.”

“Look.” He gestures at the man’s outfit jokingly.

Hiroki groans, looking down at himself: purple sweater, white dress shirt, yellow tie, black slacks. He looks back up: purple sweater, white dress shirt, yellow tie, black slacks. And back down again. And back up. “Huh?”

Akihiko grins, badgering, “Matchy-matchy. What sort of cheesy couple are we?”

Hiroki nearly faints at the implications of that phrase. It was just one night… Not completely sure how to respond, he gets back on his feet. “I-I’m gonna be late for class. Get lost.” He scrambles for the door, heart beating through his chest.

“Hiroki?”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s get dinner tonight.”

“Y-Yup.”

**Author's Note:**

> [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/thanksily/) | [tumblr](https://juroguro.tumblr.com/)


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